


you make me feel like ben and jerry's would

by anarchetypal



Category: Sorted (Website) RPF
Genre: M/M, Polyamory, Road Trip, Single AU, hotel shenanigans, lots of fluff, this is very self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 12:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9727736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchetypal/pseuds/anarchetypal
Summary: “Not that I don’tlovehaving Barry’s thigh pressed sensually against my own,” Jamie starts, “but would someone care to remind me exactly why we thought it was a good idea for the four of us not only to takeonecar on this seven-hour journey, but to take thesmallestcar we own between us? No,no, Baz, get your damn hand off my leg!”Up in the front seat, Mike laughs. He shares a grin with Ben, watching through the rearview mirror as Jamie and Barry scuffle.“Mike’s car has the most efficient gas consumption,” Ben says reasonably from the driver’s seat.“Alright, sure, fine, but it’s a bloody tighter fit than Mike’s skinny jeans,” Jamie says, giving Barry a solid shove against the door.“Hey!”“And twice as sweaty,” Barry contributes, pushing back.“Hey.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this is a poly fic that takes place in a universe where the boys are all single (or, if you prefer, have partners that are aware and accepting of the boys' relationship). this is my first foray into sortedfic after a couple of weeks of doing almost nothing but watching their videos and i'm still working on getting their voices down!

“Not that I don’t _love_ having Barry’s thigh pressed sensually against my own,” Jamie starts, “but would someone care to remind me exactly why we thought it was a good idea for the four of us not only to take _one_ car on this seven-hour journey, but to take the _smallest_ car we own between us? No, _no_ , Baz, get your damn hand off my leg!”

Up in the front seat, Mike laughs. He shares a grin with Ben, watching through the rearview mirror as Jamie and Barry scuffle.

“Mike’s car has the most efficient gas consumption,” Ben says reasonably from the driver’s seat.

“Alright, sure, fine, but it’s a bloody tighter fit than Mike’s skinny jeans,” Jamie says, giving Barry a solid shove against the door.

“Hey!”

“And twice as sweaty,” Barry contributes, pushing back.

“ _Hey_.”

“Complaining isn’t becoming of either of you,” Ben says primly, laughing and ducking his head when Jamie swats at him from the backseat. “Oi, no distracting the driver!”

“And no taking the piss out of my car unless you want to walk,” Mike adds.

“Why aren’t you driving?” Jamie asks. “I’d be able to fight Ben for passenger seat if he weren’t driving.”

Mike shrugs. “Ben wanted to drive.”

“Oh, well, if _Ben_ wanted to drive,” Jamie starts, cooing, and Mike grabs the nearest object (his phone) and throws it at him (whoops).

“Shut it.”

Barry and Jamie make loud, obnoxious kissing noises at him until Barry pauses and frowns. “When are we going to stop?”

Ben glances at the GPS. “We’ll be there around four.”

“No, I meant— The type of stop where we get to take a piss.”

“Are you kidding?” Mike says, incredulous. “We left twenty minutes ago!”

“Why didn’t you go before we left?” Ben asks disapprovingly.

“Well, I didn’t need to go then!”

“I don’t have a stop scheduled until noon. And that’s for lunch.”

“That’s three hours from now!” Barry protests.

“Do you have an _itinerary?”_ Jamie asks, sounding delighted about it.

Ben looks defensive. “Yes, what of it?”

Jamie and Mike break out into a simultaneous rendition of SuperGeek while Ben rolls his eyes and tries to shout above them about how it’s important to stay organized during a long trip.

Jamie breaks off mid-harmony to yelp. “Barry, what the hell are you doing?”

“If we’re not stopping, I’m still going.”

“Zip up your jeans _right now_.”

“It’s fine, I’ll do it out the window, nobody else is even on the road right now.”

“If somebody doesn’t switch seats with me I am going to _lose my mind_.”

Mike rolls his eyes and tunes out their bickering. Ben offers him a smile.It’s the first real trip they’ve been on since—well, since _this_ started.

Mike keeps referring to it in his head and sometimes out loud as _this_ , or _that thing we’re doing_ , or just _it_. It’s not because he’s embarrassed by _it_ or uncomfortable with _it_ —hell, he’s never felt so sure in his place with Ben and the lads, never felt so loved and cared for and all that stupid shite. That thing they’re doing, it’s good.

Jamie calls it _a fourway shag_ even though they haven’t managed to navigate more than messy necking and wandering hands with all four of them at the same time. Honestly, Mike’s glad they’re taking it slow.

Barry doesn’t actually give words to _it_ ; maybe he’s in the same boat as Mike, nothing feeling quite right in his mouth, but he’s never been hesitant, giving affection easily to each of them and calling for the occasional _lad’s night in_. Maybe that’s how he sees it in his head.

Mike’s pretty sure Jamie and Baz have been getting together since school, and he’d been nervous at first, like it’d be intruding on something that already existed, but Barry’s easily affectionate and Jamie’s general attitude is _the more the merrier_ with food and people, apparently, so it’s been good.

Ben takes to the word _polyamory_ with such equanimity that Mike wonders if he’s been thinking about it for a long time, researching it the way he does with anything he’s curious about. Ben likes definition, likes specifics, likes _knowing_ , and Mike’s sure the word brings him comfort.

He figures it doesn’t really matter what they call it. It works, is the point, and Mike’s glad to have finally arrived here after the four of them had floated aimlessly, beating around every bush and avoiding each other and frustrated as they struggled to sort things out in their heads.

Ben was the one who brought an end to it, calling a meeting like it had been just another work issue. Somehow, the familiarity of that was enough to break through the tension and finally get them talking.

(“All in favor of one giant shagfest?” Jamie had said.

“Aye,” Barry piped up.

“Jamie,” Ben said reproachfully. “This isn’t about _shagging_.” At Jamie’s expectant face, he rolled his eyes, looking to Mike without responding.

“Aye,” Mike said, grinning.

Ben laughed, relaxing. “Alright, alright. Aye.”

“All those opposed?” Jamie continued, playing it up. He looked around the room and waited, then clapped his hands. “Excellent. Motion passed. Let the shagging commence.”

“Sorted,” Mike and Barry said at the same time.

Ben sighed, fighting a smile.)

That had been a few weeks ago. They’d been especially busy with the show that month, and Mike’s been looking forward to the trip all week. Sure, it’s for work, but it’s still kind of a vacation.

“Mike, I love and respect you as a person, and I love and respect your car as a car, but if we don’t stop soon I’m going to be marking my territory in it, fair warning,” Barry announces, throwing Mike from his reminiscence.

“Ben,” Mike begs. “Ben, please save my car.”

Ben laughs, relenting. “Fine. I suppose we can top off on fuel.” He eyes the gauge dubiously. It hasn’t moved much below full.

Barry bursts from the car before Ben even comes to a complete stop at the station. “I never thought I’d be this overjoyed to enter a disgusting petrol station bathroom,” he sings out as he rushes into the little quick-mart.

“Wash your hands!” Ben calls after him, shaking his head when they hear Barry’s cheerful _Nope!_ in the distance.

Jamie wanders inside after him. “I’m getting a Daim bar. You lot want anything?”

“Oh, _excellent_ , yes, I’m coming in with you,” Mike says.

“I packed food,” Ben says. “Good food. Lovely food.”

“Exactly. _Good_ food,” Jamie says, letting the door to the shop swing shut behind him.

“We want _rubbish_ food,” Mike explains, grinning, and darts in to peck Ben on the lips before chasing after Jamie.

He notices Ben’s surprised but pleased expression; Mike’s not one to initiate much, but he’s feeling loose and relaxed and confident today. He tries out the word _boyfriends_ in his head and ends up smiling idiotically to himself until Jamie asks what the hell he’s smirking at.

Mike shrugs, gathering the bag of junk food he just paid for. “Just that I’m gonna get the front seat again,” he says nonchalantly, and then breaks into a run for the car.

He hears Jamie swear and chase after him, shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor and then crunching on the gravel outside. Mike manages to get the passenger side door open and then he’s shouting, laughing, as Jamie grabs him around the waist and hauls him back. They scuffle, Ben watching with a smile, and then abruptly Ben’s cracking up.

They pause, looking back at the car, where Barry has managed to sneak past them, get into the coveted spot, and throw his seatbelt on.

Jamie sets Mike down. “Oi!”

“Lads,” Barry acknowledges them with a nod.

“You _utter_ —”

“Nah, we’ve lost,” Mike says diplomatically. “C’mon.”

As they return to the main road and get back up to speed, Mike realizes Barry and Jamie were not, in fact, exaggerating the small amount of space in the back seat of his car. He’s going to have to fight for his spot back next time they stop.

He and Jamie tear through their junk food; Jamie takes pity on Barry’s complaints that they didn’t get him anything and tosses a candy bar at him, then promptly falls asleep leaned against Mike once his sugar high wears off.

“That’s a picture moment,” Ben announces quietly, smiling.

Mike frowns. “No.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Barry agrees, digging in his pocket for his phone and twisting around in his seat.

“I hate you.” It’s not like Mike is going to risk waking Jamie up by pushing him off.

Barry shows him the picture once he’s taken it; Mike’s raising an eyebrow at the camera, and Jamie’s face is half pressed into his shoulder, mouth open slightly.

“If you post that on instagram,” Mike starts, “I’ll—”

“Sorry, what was that?” Barry asks, tapping at his phone. “I couldn’t hear you. I was too busy posting this lovely picture to instagram.”

Mike can’t find it in him to get annoyed, not with the way Barry and Ben are laughing quietly and with Jamie’s warmth pressed against him.

It’s quiet for a while, just the hum of tires on the road and the occasional murmur of conversation. Jamie stirs occasionally, Mike shifting to make him more comfortable.

He shakes Jamie awake when they stop again for lunch; Ben’s meticulous planning means they pull off onto a side road that leads to a picnicking area.

They tear into their sandwiches, complimenting Ben’s  work and thanking him for it (Barry doing so with a mouthful of food, making Ben roll his eyes fondly and bump shoulders with him).

Ben’s meticulous planning also means that he orders them all up and back into the car before they manage to finish eating. “We’ve got to make up time for Barry’s impromptu bathroom stop.”

“Ah,” Barry says. “Well, actually, speaking of bathroom stops—”

“Go in the bloody bushes,” Mike says, and the second he’s thrown away his trash, he’s racing Jamie to the car. Jamie hip-checks him before he can get the door open, and he lands in the dirt as Jamie throws himself into the car dramatically like he’s just won an Olympic-level race.

“Arse,” Mike says without any real heat, dusting himself off.

“It was my turn.”

“Well, then, it’s my turn next.”

“Unless I beat you again.”

“Then you don’t get to use turns as an argument!”

“Ah! No, no, wait, here, hold out your hands,” Ben says from behind them, stalling their bickering. Barry’s rolling his eyes, Ben brandishing a small bottle of hand sanitizer.

“I barely even touched,” he starts, and Ben looks at him like he’s prepared to upend the bottle over his head. “Fine, _fine_ , give me that, then.”

They’re back on the road soon after, Barry kicking at the back of Jamie’s seat and demanding more leg room until Ben says _I will turn this car around, so help me_ , and they’re all cracking up, Ben looking decidedly pleased with himself.

They’re all half-dozing by the time Ben pulls into the parking lot of the hotel they’re staying at. Mike rouses, picking his head up off of Barry’s shoulder, and rubs his face, feeling the imprint of the seam of Barry’s shirt pressed into his cheek.

Ben’s as alert and cheerful as ever, due to witchcraft or a deal with the devil, probably, and they grab their suitcases and trek into the hotel lobby to check in.

They had deliberated over how to book rooms before they left, and finally Mike had said, “How about one room with two king-sized beds?”

There’d been a long moment of silence, and Mike had flushed, ready to pass it off as a joke, but then Jamie had nodded, and Ben said it was a “fantastic idea, and it’ll save us some money,” and Barry suggested they push the beds together and “have a sleepover, paint each other’s toenails,” and Mike had punched him in the arm.

The room is enormous, the beds more luxurious than the one Mike has at home, and he takes a running start and leaps onto one of them in a belly flop.

“Incoming!” Barry calls out, and Mike barely manages to roll out of the way before he hits the bed where he’d been a fraction of a second ago.

“I thought we’d go to dinner around seven,” Ben says, dragging his suitcase further inside. “There’s a lovely place not far from here we can walk to.”

“Sounds great,” Mike says. “You want to get some footage and then watch telly for a bit?”

“ _I_ am going to go down to the pool,” Jamie announces, rifling through his bag.

Ben looks mildly concerned. “Jamie, you are aware it’s the middle of winter.”

“The pool’s heated,” Jamie says. “Barry told me.”

Ben and Mike look at him. Barry nods. “Yeah. It’s deece.”

Jamie snags a towel from the bathroom and tucks his room key into his back pocket, a swatch of fabric held in one hand. “You lot are free to come join me if you like.”

“Noted,” Mike says.

Barry’s looking at the fabric in Jamie’s hand with a horrified expression. “Is that a speedo.”

“Absolutely,” Jamie says proudly.

“You know, suddenly I think I may not be joining you.”

“Your mouth says no, but your heart—”

“Says _hell no_.”

Jamie shrugs, grinning. “Your loss,” he says, heading out into the hall, shaking his hips as he goes.

Ben folds his arms over his chest. “Barry.”

“Ben.”

“The pool isn’t heated, is it.”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Footage opportunity?” Mike chimes in.

Ben cracks a surprisingly devious smile. “Oh, _absolutely_.”

(Jamie greets them when they reach the pool, changed into his speedo and commenting about how lucky it is that they’ve got the pool to themselves. He takes a running start and cannonballs into the water, the rest of them scampering back to avoid the splash, and then emerges with a shriek.

“You wanker!” he splutters, splashing about frantically until he reaches the wall and hauls himself back onto the deck.

“Oh, don’t get all stroppy,” Barry says. “It’s not very becoming.”

“You are _so dead_ — Actually,” Jamie says, calming down suddenly, “no. No, you know what, you’re right, it’s not becoming.”

Barry looks at him warily. “Well, good.”

“No, I think what you need is a _hug_.”

Barry takes a couple of steps back. “Now, Jamie— Mate—” He yelps when Jamie charges forward and wraps his arms around him tightly. Squirming in Jamie’s grip, he pleads for help, going from a joking tone to a panicked one when Jamie lifts him off the ground and falls back into the pool, taking Barry with him.

The two of them shiver pathetically all the way back to the hotel room, trying unsuccessfully to share a single towel. Ben and Mike push the beds together while they change into dry clothes, and they pile into the mega-bed, blankets and pillows strewn chaotically around them as they search for a decent program on television.

By the time seven o’clock rolls around, Mike sees Ben take in the sight of them—laying on each other in a haphazard pile, bickering over a rerun episode of Downton Abbey.

“You know,” Ben says thoughtfully, “perhaps we could just order room service.”

Mike kind of loves his life.

**Author's Note:**

> i've also got a writing blog here: http://anarchetypal.tumblr.com/ though it's mostly other youtube rpf stuff


End file.
